The Mechanisms of a Self-Destruct Button
by Katie Snow
Summary: Aubrey was running from a past that she didn't think would eventually catch up to her. Chloe was trying to find something to run from. "We're tragedies, not comedies." And no one would have thought that a simple line spat out from hungover lips could have held so much truth to it.
1. Chapter 1

_Regrets collect like old friends  
>Here to relive your darkest moments<br>I can see no way, I can see no way  
>And all of the ghouls come out to play<em>

_-Florence + the Machine_

Smoke curled into the night air, evaporating within minutes and leaving no trace. Watchful eyes sparkled with hope and wonder, longing to disappear and leave nothing behind just as the smoke blown out between chapped lips did. A shaking hand held the cigarette and the hope faded from those watchful eyes, leaving a dull blue that stared vacantly at the lights of the city beyond her window. A hand went to her hair, releasing it from a loose bun so that blonde locks cascaded down past her shoulders to rest against her back.

A heavy sigh broke the silence in her room and she turned from the window, leaning back against the sill so that she faced her bed. There, a black dress was laid out, wrinkled in some places from the lack of an iron. Memories flooded her thoughts, that same black dress having had made an appearance months earlier. And that was what she needed—for those memories to resurface and send her spiraling into a state where she reached for the tequila bottle without a second thought.

It was her own personal test, and yet she was failing, as she didn't run out of her room and to the kitchen. Instead, she slid down to the floor, eyes locked on the dress as she continued to torment herself. He would've grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her to her feet. Not because he was going to comfort her. No—never something so simple and kind and just fucking _pretty._ It would have been to tell her how pathetic she was for sitting on the floor resurfacing memories better left alone.

She pushed herself to her feet and forced herself to look away, turning to focus back on the city lights that shined through the dark; she likened it to the funeral that shone light on her life despite the fact that it brought a certain darkness she wasn't able to place. As she shook her head, she tapped the cigarette on the sill and flicked it out the window. Then she turned back to the dress and grabbed it, carrying it away to a box in the living room that was still left unpacked.

Making her way into the kitchen, she repeated the same statement over and over again in her head, trying to say it enough times so that she ended up believing it. _This is only because I have nothing better to do, not because of him._ The words were etched into her mind by the time she pulled the bottle of tequila out of her alcohol cabinet and turned on her iPod dock. Music immediately started blasting and she swayed her hips along to the song as she took a long drink from the bottle.

A loud knock sounded and she dropped the bottle to the ground in surprise, cringing as it shattered. She shut off the music, face reddening as she went to open the door for who she believed was going to be security telling her about all the noise complaints she was causing. However, when she opened the door, she found herself staring at a stranger who was anything but security.

"Hi, I'm Chloe!" the woman at the door exclaimed.

"That's…wonderful. Why are you here?"

"Are you Aubrey Posen?" Chloe asked. The blonde nodded her head. "I'm here on behalf of my boss, Bumper Allen. He owns the coffee shop that you applied to for a job."

"Oh, right. You don't just call the people who apply?" she inquired.

"Sometimes we do. I just thought that people would like good news in person, though. I do."

"Good news? Does that mean that I've been accepted?" A bit of happiness pulled her from the thoughts that drove her towards the tequila and mini dance party.

"Yeah. You can start tonight, if you're available," Chloe told her, pushing past her and into the small apartment. Her eyebrows raised as she saw the puddle of tequila and shattered glass. "What happened?"

"I dropped tequila—why are you in my house?"

"Your voice is pretty," Chloe stated, dropping down to look closer at the shards of glass.

"Are you a serial killer or something?" Aubrey asked. Chloe laughs and stands up as she shook her head.

"Are you going to come in tonight or should we just expect to see you tomorrow?"

"Why is a diner even open at ten o'clock at night? When you close?"

"We don't. We're a twenty-four hour café and diner. I think that's what we're called. I'm not entirely sure. Anyway, are you coming in tonight or not?"

"Uh, yeah, sure. I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

"Make sure you get dressed. Bumper's a perverted little shit, but even he won't want someone who looks like a prostitute to be working in the shop."

Aubrey looked down to see what she was wearing and her face immediately turned bright red as she realized that she had been wearing nothing but a robe thrown over her lingerie. After casting her an amused look, Chloe looked around the living room before settling on the couch.

"I can give you a ride over there," she offered.

"No offense, but I'm still not entirely sure if you're a murderer or not," Aubrey deadpanned.

"First I'm a serial killer and now I'm just a murderer? I need to step up my game. Seriously, though, I'm giving you a ride. Don't be a dick—save the environment."

Rolling her eyes, Aubrey walked back to her room, leaving the mess on the floor as she tried to clear her thoughts. Even without the appearance of Chloe, it was already going to be a long, restless night. Spending it at a café was probably better use of her time rather than throwing a drunken dance party with herself and eventually getting yelled at by security.

* * *

><p><p>

Her reflection blinked back at her in the mirror, giving an accusing look at the offensive shirt that she wore. Written in white letters on the black fabric was _Bumper's_. She had yet to meet her new boss, though from what Chloe had told her, she didn't want to. Taking in a deep breath, she pushed her way out of the bathroom and to the front counter.

Chloe was waiting for her there, leaning against a wall as she ignored impatient customers. A brunette woman worked next to Chloe's station, taking double the orders of those that wished to grab something to-go and leave the café behind them. Aubrey wasn't able to blame them; with one less employee working, there was hardly enough people to take care of all the customers coming in. She was surprised to see so many people coming in what she would have expected to be a close to rundown café.

She refrained from telling Chloe that she should have been helping out, and instead spun in a slow circle at Chloe's request to show off her uniform. Though it was hardly to be a uniform—a pair of jeans and the new shirt that Chloe had to pay for because she forgot to tell Aubrey that she had to purchase the shirt once she got there.

A door slammed shut and Aubrey turned her attention towards the back room that connected to behind the counter. Chloe scoffed as a man walked towards them, and Aubrey wasn't sure if he was angry or if that was just the expression he wore naturally. It was then that Aubrey realized this was probably Bumper Allen, and she straightened up to look professional. He eyed her carefully.

"Are you Aubrey Posen?" She nodded. "How long are you staying on shift tonight?"

"How long am I supposed to stay on shift?" she questioned, shooting him a confused look.

"When someone else comes in, you can leave, just as long as you beat the others to it," he said before walking back to the room that he had came from. Aubrey turned to Chloe.

"What does that mean? How do the shifts even _work_?"

"This is a privately-owned café, and Bumper's an idiot and doesn't know how to keep his employees in check. So, basically, as long as there are three other people working, you can leave as long as you've worked at least three hours for a requested six hour shift, four hours for a requested seven hour shift, and so on. You'll still get paid for the amount of time you were originally supposed to work, though."

"That hardly makes any sense," Aubrey told her.

"Yeah, well, it is what it is. No one really questions it since it's a pretty good deal. Anyway, get to work. That old guy over there has been here for like fifteen minutes and no one's gone to take his order yet," Chloe told her, slapping her ass as to encourage her to move faster.

Aubrey made her way towards the man, forcing a smile as she approached him. He tore his eyes from the newspaper in his hands to look up at her through his glasses. "What can I get you?" she asked.

"I'll have a coffee, regular," he said. "That's all." She nodded and retreated back to the counter to relay the order to Chloe.

"Chloe, are you coming to my party tonight?" someone asked. Aubrey turned to see the brunette from earlier approaching them.

"I thought it wasn't until tomorrow night," Chloe replied.

"It's tonight. We're going to that club in Bakersville. Me, you, Jesse, Fat Amy, and Stacie. Lily and Cynthia-Rose can't make it," the woman said.

"Oh, yeah, I'll be there, don't worry. Wait! Can my friend come?" Chloe asked excitedly, motioning to Aubrey, who stood there dumbfounded. "This is Aubrey. Aubrey, this is Beca."

"Yeah she can come," Beca said. A customer called out to Beca. "Gotta go." She sauntered off and Aubrey turned towards Chloe once she was out of earshot.

"Why did you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Invite me."

"Because there happens to be a puddle of tequila and a broken bottle in the middle of your living room floor, seeping through the carpet and eventually through the wood of your floor. And if the fact that you didn't even bother to clean it up doesn't prove how lonely you probably are, I don't know what will."

"That still doesn't answer my question. Why did you invite me? You don't even know me, and we're less than friends," she said. She wasn't trying to be offensive—that was her last intention. People have never treated her as kindly, and if the past three years was any indication, people never would without having hidden meaning to.

"Because you're alone and seem like you could use a friend. And you willingly agreed to work the night shift. Being here is a total waste of time and if you don't plan on sleeping you may as well just come and get wasted with us for Beca's twenty-second birthday. Anyway, I'm going to finish taking care of a bunch of idiot customers and then I'll drive you home so that you can get ready."

"I thought we can't leave unless there are three other people?"

"There will be once I call a few of the people that work here. Everyone loves me and they're all willing to do favors for me," Chloe said.

"You seem a bit unpleasant."

"I'm not as much of a bitch as that just made me sound, I promise."

* * *

><p><p>

Aubrey was starting to get bored. She watched silently as Chloe and Beca interacted, speaking and laughing obnoxiously loud. Only a few people turned their heads whenever the two began to have a laughing fit at a shared joke, and Aubrey wondered if the other customers weren't bothered by it or just gave up paying attention.

She rubbed her hand down her face before her head snapped to the entrance of the café at the sound of bells chiming. A man walked in—a face all too familiar for Aubrey. Her heart stopped and her breath caught in her throat. The man looked around, though he stopped once his eyes landed on her. A soft smile curled at his lips and he approached her slowly.

"Aubrey," he breathed out in a pleasant tone. She nodded. "It's good to see you. I'm actually about, um, James." His voice trailed off into a whisper at the name and Aubrey shifted uncomfortably. "There's new evidence that suggests it wasn't suicide."

"Really? Anything worth mentioning?" she asked quickly.

"I guess they had a specialist take a look at the letter. The handwriting doesn't match his own. The detective that came to talk with me didn't say it directly, but they think it was a homocide."

"A homocide? But who would have wanted to kill James? He was a nice guy—everyone loved him," Aubrey said.

"I shouldn't say this, especially about my own brother, but Aubrey—there was always a darkness about him that no one knew about. It was something bigger than me, than you, than everyone that knew him. And for anyone who ever figured it out—my thoughts and prayers go out to them." He paused to look around the shop once more. "I have to go. It's good to see that you're doing well, Aubrey."

"Well" was an overstatement, but she didn't bother to inform him of that as he turned his back to her and walked away. Hanging her head in thought, she walked to the bathroom, not bothering to stop and explain when Chloe asked her what the exchange was about. No—she couldn't stop, because that would mean tears, and the last thing she wanted was to cry in front of someone she didn't know.

Unfortunately, Chloe was one to press matters, and followed behind Aubrey closely until both of them were standing in the empty employees' bathroom. She wordlessly engulfed the blonde in a hug as Aubrey began to sob. Her body shook hard and although she tried to catch her breath, she never managed to. Chloe only held her tighter, her hand circling her back soothingly.

Pulling away, Aubrey tried to put as much distance between herself and Chloe as possible. "Sorry," she muttered, wiping the tears from her face with the back of her hand. "I hate crying in front of people. I didn't think you'd follow me."

"Oh—sorry, then, for following you," Chloe said nonchalantly, trying to play it off. "Are you all right?"

"I'll be fine. Thanks."

"Not to sound insensitive or anything, but it looks like now you have an even better reason to get wasted with us tonight," Chloe pointed out. Despite everything, Aubrey somehow found it in herself to let out a laugh that echoed against the beige walls of the bathroom, and Chloe joined her.

"Will you help me pick something to wear?" she asked, immediately regretting the question, thinking it was too weird. It was like she had been saying all night—she barely knew Chloe.

"Of course." Chloe's phone buzzed and she pulled it out, reading the text she had received before smiling and looking up at Aubrey. "Our escape has just arrived. Get changed; I'll drive us back to your apartment."

"Sounds like a plan," Aubrey said, walking out of the bathroom with Chloe.

* * *

><p><strong>Pairing: Chloe x Aubrey<strong>

**Rating: T, will change in later chapters**

**Trigger Warning: This story will deal with alcohol, drugs, self-harm, and flashbacks of relationship abuse**

**This story will be updated every Sunday, though update time may be influenced by reviews. **

**The content of this story is subject to change (so, like, if I find errors randomly or want to change a paragraph, I'll go back and change it and then re-update this).**


	2. Chapter 2

_Watch it burn  
>Sink in the river<br>The lesson's I've learned  
>Everything that kills me<br>Makes me feel alive_

_-OneRepublic_

"I like your tits," Chloe said. Aubrey's hands fell to her sides and she looked at Chloe's reflection in the mirror. "What? They're nice." Shaking her head, she resumed zipping the side of her dress up and then turned to face the redhead. "The dress makes your body look great."

"We don't know each other well enough to be talking like this," Aubrey stated.

"Sure we do," came the reply as Chloe stood and gathered her belongings from Aubrey's bed. "You're hot. Just accept it and we can move on. And, before you ask—yes, I am blatantly hitting on you."

Aubrey ignored her last statement and led her out of the apartment. The venture through the elevator and dim corridors of the building was long, more so due to the fact that she could feel Chloe's eyes on her. She played it off—the other woman was doing it solely to annoy her, or somewhat creep her out, both of which were effects she was going through.

The cool night air mixed pleasantly with her burning skin—whether she was warm from the temperature of the building or embarrassment, she didn't know. She slid easily into the passenger seat of Chloe's car, waiting patiently for the redhead to make her way into the vehicle as well.

Once she was in the car, Aubrey buckled herself in and then turned her torso to face her. "Can you stop with all of the annoying comments? Are you even gay?" she asked.

"Nope, just bored. Though I wouldn't be completely objective to the idea of having sex with you," Chloe replied, giving her a sly smile before turning the key in the ignition and peeling out of the parking lot.

_This is going to be a long night._

She only had three beers before she was gone. Never had she thought of herself as a lightweight, yet something in that night made her lose herself more than she ever had. The lights had an even prettier glow to them. Strobe dancing on the skin of others, making them look that much more attractive. And the only comprehensive thought she was able to hold onto was a question of whether or not she was drunk or on an acid trip.

Consequently, seeing things in a new light also made her see Chloe in a different way. The quirky, invader-of-personal-space woman that had greeted her at her door earlier than night and drove her to work was now the very _definition _of sex. If she had been able to hold onto another comprehensive thought, it was that grinding on one of her coworkers was definitely not the way to start the night, and that she was going to regret everything that happened when daylight came.

Yet her foggy mind and sloppy dance moves only egged the redhead on, invited her to do whatever she wanted. And Aubrey knew that in that moment she would jump at the very snap of Chloe's fingers. She would crawl through broken glass on her knees if she was asked to. Only, of course, if she got into the redhead's pants in return.

Yes, morning was definitely going to bring her self-loathing and a discipline that some wouldn't have ever thought imaginable. But that was just how she was taught. It was how she was told to live. And the person that taught her wasn't going to ever lose their hold—even in death.

She wasn't sure when her hands had slipped under Chloe's dress, or when Chloe had gotten a leg between her thighs, yet there they were, practically having sex on the dance floor. Her one-track mind made her oblivious to those around her, most of which had almost stopped dancing just to stand and gawk at the two like mindless idiots. No—all she was able to focus on was Chloe. Chloe's hands, Chloe's body, her heat, the smell of her perfume (which had actually belonged to Aubrey), the way she moved against Aubrey.

Everything was purely Chloe.

And she knew that, on that night, she wouldn't have wanted it any other way. Not when they stumbled out of the bar, not when they pushed each other towards a waiting taxi, and definitely not when they fell into Aubrey's apartment and landed on the floor, too lost in each other to get up and move to the bedroom.

They were rushed—heated and passionate. Aubrey closed her eyes lightly as Chloe trailed kisses down her neck, unzipped her dress and all but tore it off. Chloe's own dress soon followed. She glided her hand up Aubrey's thigh, ignoring the blonde as she raised her hips up, silently begging to touched where she needed most. Instead, Chloe stopped her hand's movements and focused on Aubrey's neck, leaving marks in her wake.

"Please…" Aubrey's voice trailed off and she didn't think she had the ability to pick it back up again. Deciding she had enough teasing, Chloe entered Aubrey with two fingers, causing the blonde to moan abruptly and rather loudly. Chloe smiled at the sound. If she was being honest, it turned her on—made her crave Aubrey even more, if that was even possible at the time.

She picked up her pace, sending Aubrey into a frenzy of moans and cries, pleading with her to go faster, harder, needing to be sent into a state of bliss that made her legs too weak to walk and her body spasm. And when she finally came, she almost thought that it was the best sex of her life.

Almost.

Their position was flipped immediately after Aubrey recovered from her orgasm. She left kisses down Chloe's body, stopping once she reached the patch of skin just under her naval. She slid the redhead's underwear down her legs, tossing them aside before settling back between her legs. Chloe groaned and hit her head back against the floor in the anticipation.

The feeling of bliss nearly overcame Aubrey again as she tasted Chloe. It felt like a need so great she would crave it for every second of the rest of her life. She knew that even she could have it every second of every day, it still wasn't going to be enough. Unbeknownst to her, that night created an everpresent need to have Chloe. Yet she didn't care what it did on her mental state as long as she was able to make the other woman scream.

Besides, her head was already fucked. She had nothing else to lose.

The next day hit her in a splitting headache and unwelcome sunlight. She padded across the room to shut the curtains angrily, swearing up and down of how much of an idiot she was. It was then that she looked to her bed, seeing that Chloe was missing. She expected nothing less. However, as she headed towards her kitchen, the smell of coffee and food invaded her senses. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" she heard Chloe exclaim. She took a turn and stood, frozen, at the sight before her.

Chloe was attempting to flip scrambled eggs that were frying on a pan, though the difficult she was having with getting the eggs onto the spatula was sending her into a panicked state. Aubrey tried to contain her amusement and walked over the redhead to help her. She reluctantly surrendered the pan and utensil to Aubrey, watching in awe as the blonde effortlessly flipped the eggs over.

"Why are you cooking?" Aubrey asked, walking away from the stove to pour a cup of coffee.

"It's a sort of apology. Like, uh, hey—sorry for sleeping with you last night even though you're straight. And sorry for being a creepy bisexual. But, uh, if it makes you feel any better I hardly even remember last night," Chloe said.

As much as she wanted it to, the words only managed to make her feel worse about the entire situation. There was something about not remembering—something about not knowing how great or how terrible the sex was—that upset her. Maybe she hoped it was terrible. Had it been, they could've both laughed at how inexperienced they were with women and then moved on. Yet if it was great, then there could have possibly been a chance of doing it again.

Aubrey shook her head, trying to clear the thoughts. She focused instead on her cup of coffee, sauntering around the kitchen to collect sugar and a carton of milk. She added the ingredients, mouth watering slightly at the sheer idea of coffee.

"Funny. I would've thought that you took it black," Chloe commented.

"Is that a reference to my coffee or my sex life?"

"You're so racist."

"Well, some people say that I look like a girl to have sex with black men. I'm not opposed to the idea—I've dated and had sex with black guys before. I was just wondering in what way you meant that," Aubrey explained.

"Both, I guess. And you don't really look like that type of girl. I've gotten those comments before but you can actually see it in me. You can see it in my eyes. I'm batshit crazy and into anything," Chloe said.

"I fully agree on the crazy part."

"What's life?" Chloe asked suddenly, scraping the eggs off of the pan and onto a plate. Aubrey looked up at her, a puzzled look sprawled across her face. "Do you know?"

"I don't think anyone really has an answer to that question," Aubrey told her. Chloe shrugged and carried two plates over to the table, motioning for Aubrey to join her.

"Thanks for this—it looks great," Aubrey said, knowing that she would've been a bitch if she hadn't.

Chloe nodded and smiled at her brightly before taking a bite of her toast and a sip from her coffee. A comfortable silence fell over them as they ate. It was probably the first time Aubrey was able to sit in quiet without being bombarded by her own thoughts. Once they had finished eating, however, she stared down at her empty plate with regret.

_Look at what you've done. _

"I hate hangovers. I'm gonna be sick," Aubrey blurted out, rushing to the bathroom. She shut the door behind her and leaned over the toilet, though not before grabbing her toothbrush from the holder above the sink. She poked it at the back of her throat, tears falling freely down her face as she threw up most of what she had just eaten.

Chloe knocked on the door, calling to Aubrey to see if she was all right. As she was about to open the door, Aubrey put the toothbrush back on the holder and returned to her position on the floor. Chloe walked in and lowered herself to the floor to rub Aubrey's back and hold her hair up.

"Thank you," Aubrey managed to choke out between throwing up and sobbing. To her surprise, Chloe did not question why she was crying. She wasn't sure if it was because she didn't want to pry, or if she thought that throwing up made her cry. Whatever the reason, Aubrey was grateful.

"Sorry for ditching you last night," Chloe said to Beca. Beca gave her an understanding smile and a question asked through a curious gaze. Chloe nodded. "Platonically, yeah."

"Nice job, Chloe. She's hot as hell. You should turn it into something not so…platonic," Beca told her with a wink. Chloe rolled her eyes at her friend and turned to face an approaching customer.

"Hi," he said, glancing around the diner. "Is Aubrey Posen here? I saw her yesterday—I was wondering if she was working today, too."

"Who are you?" Chloe asked, suddenly feeling defensive over Aubrey.

"My name's Brady. I'm her ex-boyfriend's brother," he replied coolly. Chloe nodded, taking his words into consideration.

"She's not coming in until later, sorry."

Brady looked down at the counter, disappointed. Then, as if just randomly remembering where he was, looked up and smiled politely at Chloe. "Thank you," he said. She nodded at him as he walked out of the diner.

Her steps were hurried as she walked around to the back of the diner, finding Aubrey leaning against the wall with a cigarette held between two fingers. She took a long drag before noticing Chloe, blowing a steady stream of smoke out in the opposite direction of the redhead.

"Some guy named Brady was looking for you," Chloe told her. Aubrey immediately straightened out, her muscles tightening. Seeming to notice, Chloe continued with her next statement in an attempt to calm the blonde, "I told him you weren't coming in until later. Who is he?"

"He's no one—just someone from my past," Aubrey responded.

"Oh."

Chloe walked over to Aubrey and stood next to her, glancing at the cigarette with a frown. Aubrey looked at her. "What's wrong?"

"That'll kill you," Chloe pointed out.

_That's the point,_ Aubrey thought to herself. Instead of saying it out loud she only looked at Chloe, smiled faintly, and said, "I know."

* * *

><p><strong>Note: Hi everyone! I'd like to say thank you to those that commented on the last chapter. Also, I'm actually turning this idea into a screenplay-so if you ever see it in theaters, you get to tell everyone that you knew the person who wrote it ;D<strong>


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